𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲.
@defiante asked: i can feel you staring at me. — for modERN! !!!!!
𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐑𝐓 the way he dirties his hands to ensure the accuracy in his work. Wrenching away at the car that's led her to countless victories. Willed around like a beast, roaring to life down straightaways && whipping through corners with enough g-force to meld one into their seat. But right now in this moment where she's perched in a chair, idly scrolling through various forms of social media && dodging messages from unhinged individuals or relentless fans, she can't help but to stare. Peering over the top of her phone, unaware there's a tinge of slyness to the way she smiles whilst watching on. But he's caught her. She's been had! && his statement causes her to nearly fumbles her phone from her hand. Paired with bashful laughter && the scrunch in her nose as she looks across to her lead mechanic therein. "I just.. can't help it." Of course, it's all but a jest. The lead mechanic is none other than her very own boyfriend. He knows her better than any other. && what's more is her tendency to ogle him while he works. So she rises from her seat to saunter nearer. All until her hands smooth over the bareness of broad shoulders && press a kiss between both shoulder blades. "You're just too much. What on earth did I do right to deserve you, Mr. Rosfield?"
